Splintering Ennead
by chickenscrews
Summary: Xion died on the 357th day. She was reborn 24 years earlier as the human "Shion": Kairi's guardian with no memories of her past life. She is 15 when the Heartless invade and Kairi vanishes without a trace. With 9 years until her past death, Shion braves the fatal ennead—without a Keyblade—in search of her lost sister, unaware that a ghost from her former life seeks her destruction.
1. Birth by Divergence

This story is a response to Riku Uzumaki's "Xion: Rebirth Challenge," as posted on his profile. You can read the full guidelines there, but the shortened version is that, after her death in _358 Days_ , Xion was reborn in the past as a human (named "Shion") and became Kairi's elder sister. Though the plot itself is very open to interpretation, the key element is that Shion and Kairi were separated when the Heartless attacked Radiant Garden and Kairi was sent to Destiny Islands and they are now trying to find each other. This is my attempt to fill in the blanks :)

In addition to making this story possible in the first place, Riku Uzumaki is also beta-reading this, so that's awesome.

One final note: neither Prince Scott nor "the Dark Seeker" are OCs. Scott was a minor character from _Final Fantasy II_ and the masked Seeker is...well, that's for you to find out...

* * *

 **Splintering Ennead**

 **Chapter One: Birth by Divergence**

The light blinded her. Their cries deafened her. But it was the absence of pain—the absence of _feeling_ —which confounded her. The ten year-old girl was laying down on a moving bed of a sort—this much she knew—but with a turn of her head as her vision slowly adjusted, she found herself in a brightly-lit emergency room, surrounded by scrambling doctors and her fellow survivors.

 _Survivors… Then, we're still alive?_

All too immersive visions of their escape attempt replayed in her mind. She was back on the airship, sirens blaring all around and the unnamed newborn bawling in her arms.

 _"Shion, follow me!"_ the blonde-haired prince had called to her amid the fire and destruction.

She was beyond terrified. That moment in time—their desperate flight from the faceless "Dark Seeker" and his concentration camp—had been the pinnacle of a ten-month nightmare where all she'd known and loved was destroyed by a sadist and his army of shadow-creatures. _What were those monsters…?_

The prince shook her from her terror-trance by grabbing her shoulder, _"We have to go!"_ and led her and the cradled infant through claustrophobic hallways, rupturing aerium pipes and explosions closing in from behind. She knew their destination was the escape pods, yet, precious meters before they could reach them, a nearby wall separating the interior from the chaotic night sky was blown apart, and on the other side, a smaller aircraft, burning and spinning wildly out of control, careened inevitably towards them. They would never clear the distance in time. Prince Scott didn't say a word. He simply threw himself over the girl and the infant and wrapped his arms around them, his back to the looming inferno to take the brunt of the blow. Petrified though Shion was, she knew Scott's altruism would amount to nothing against a burning missile of that magnitude. They were all going to die. She held the crying infant closer, squeezed her own eyes shut—

—and now, in the emergency room, the charred body of Scott was trolleyed beside her on a hospital bed of his own. He wasn't moving, yet the ungainly breathing apparatus and the pulse oximeter he was plugged into was proof enough that he still lived, if only by a thread.

Rolled onto her side, the wide-eyed girl extended an arm for the scorched hero just beyond her reach. "Prince Scott," she weakly muttered, "please don't die…" But in her heart, she knew his time was fast approaching. He had only a few hours at best.

But then a far more pressing dread possessed her. "Where's the baby?" she asked in a terrified whisper. No one heard her in the chaos of the emergency room. She pressed again, beseeching no one in particular, "Where's the baby?!"

She didn't wait for a response she'd never get. With no regard to the pain suddenly pouring into her as she moved, the girl with the waist-length raven hair pushed herself upright and practically leapt off the bed. One foot reached the cold floor, but no second connection was made, taking the breath right out of her before she plummeted face-first onto the linoleum tiles. That got the doctors' attention. They were upon her in seconds and lifted her back onto the bed. It was in the ascent that silent shock overwhelmed Shion when she found her left leg now ended at a bandaged and bloodied stump where her knee once was.

* * *

It was now two days ago that the infant girl's cries reached beyond their cramped cell and flooded the prison hallway. Shion had been at the fourteen year-old mother's side as another of their female cellmates delivered the red-haired baby, and she was the first to notice Mayu had died mere seconds after childbirth. The last thing the unfortunate mother heard was someone exclaim, "It's a girl!" and the thunderous applause of every other wrongly-enslaved soul in the prison wing. Mayu never saw her daughter, but perhaps it was for the best, or so Shion mused; after nine months of pregnancy in inhospitable conditions, the red-haired child only resembled the sadistic guard who'd had his way with Mayu one month after she was captured. The baby looked nothing like her mother.

It was only hours after discovering the loss of her leg that Shion remembered no one had thought to name Mayu's daughter—two days after the fact. The ten year-old juggled various names in her mind, if for no other reason than to distract her from the nightmare she was still waking from. Scott had died right next to her thirty-seven minutes ago.

Staring at that innocent, sleeping face through the window of the nursery only reminded Shion of how narrowly she and the baby avoided death—how, if anything had gone even slightly differently, their lives would have ended on that burning airship. At the very least, she was thankful the nameless child survived. But without a family to raise her…

She clenched the arm-rests of the wheelchair and gritted her teeth in frustration, her long hair falling over her searing eyes. _Don't stop thinking! She needs a name! She deserves that much!_

Footsteps and voices drew near. By the sound of the conversation, they were heading to the same emergency room she escaped from. Their dialogue stopped when they spotted her and the doctor leading the pack called, "Excuse me, young miss, but shouldn't you be resting right now?"

Shion didn't turn to face her. She only stared at Mayu's child. "I can't. Someone needs to watch over the baby."

The doctor chuckled. "I assure you, our maternity ward staff is perfectly competent in all babysitting matters. Though, I see the nurses need to pay better attention if you escaped their watch. How did you leave the emergency room?"

"Hopped out," she monotoned.

 _On one foot?!_ The doctor was amazed. "But, where did you get the wheelchair?"

"Found it."

The doctor and her company were speechless and visibly amused. Shion added, "A one-legged girl hopped out of the emergency room, stole a wheelchair, and rode it all the way down to the maternity ward without being stopped by the doctors or security. Please excuse me if I don't think you can watch a little baby." She didn't mean to sound rude; she was only deeply concerned for the infant and didn't know if she'd ever see her again.

"But unlike little girls," the doctor countered, "newborns aren't master thieves."

"Maybe I'll steal _her_." There was no hint of interest towards the doctor in Shion's voice: only a twinge of remorse for hers and the infant's unknown fates.

A deep-voiced man in bright, royal robes answered her, "Her family might not appreciate that."

"She doesn't have one. I watched her mother die in childbirth." Her spectators were silent once more, this time struck by the gravity of her words. "My family's gone, too. The Dark Seeker orphaned a lot of us. This kid and I, we don't have anyone left. I just wanna make sure she turns out alright…that she has a chance to grow up like other kids…" Her words drifted as tears slowly pooled and spilled from her eyes until the wheelchair-bound girl threw her head in her hands and openly mourned in front of the grownups watching her, unconcerned for what they thought.

Some seconds later, the deep-voiced man approached her and knelt beside her. He spoke in a calm, soothing tone, "I am truly sorry for your loss. And I can't bring your families back, but I may be able to give you and the little one a second chance."

Shion allowed her hands to move aside so she could better look at the kindhearted stranger. The tears still flowed, but the blonde-haired man offered her a handkerchief from his chest pocket, which Shion quickly accepted and wiped her tears and nose with. He spoke again, "My name is Ansem, and I happen to know someone who'd be more than happy to take you, her, and every other child the Dark Seeker orphaned into her home."

Shion spoke through sniffles. "You—you do?"

Ansem nodded. "Indeed. So, you needn't worry about your futures. You will be well taken care of and never have to fear any monsters ever again." Enough of her tears wiped away, Shion lowered the handkerchief and gazed pleadingly into the older man's eyes. He spoke again, "What is your name, child?"

She swallowed some of the remorse clogging her throat and sniffled. "Shion."

Ansem smiled. "A beautiful name. And what of the little one?"

Again, Shion stiffened. For all the time spent brainstorming a name for the infant, nothing felt right. She was deciding what this newborn would be called for the rest of her life, possibly even influencing how she would grow and see herself throughout the years—a responsibility no ten year-old should be burdened with. The words fell quietly and despairingly from her mouth, "She doesn't have one."

The blonde man raised an eyebrow. "Oh? But, she'll need a name for the registration to be official. Are you sure no one gave her one?"

She nodded bitterly.

Ansem sighed. "I see." He rose and said gently, "Then, there is no hurry. Take all the time you need to choose. A name is a very important thing."

As he turned to leave, the distantly familiar voice of a boy called through Shion's mind, _"Kairi!"_ The wheelchair-bound girl's eyes opened wide, but she stifled any gasp. She swore she'd never heard the voice or the name before, yet their familiarity left an eerie and bittersweet swelling in her heart. It felt so right…

"Kairi!" she blurted suddenly, drawing the attention of those who'd turned to leave. Settling down somewhat, she repeated, "Kairi. Her name is Kairi. She's going to be my sister."

Ansem smiled amicably. "And so she shall. Take good care of her, Shion. She'll doubtlessly look up to you."

Shion nodded, and when the others finally departed, she spoke at last to her new sister, "I'm going to look out for you, Kairi. No one's going to hurt us ever again."

* * *

It was sunset the next day when the orphans arrived at the estate in their world's capital city: Radiant Garden. There were seven of them in all; wheelchair-bound Shion with the infant Kairi on her lap, eight year-old Aerith holding the hands of five year-old Ienzo and two year-old Yuffie, aloof eleven year-old Squall (half of his face heavily bandaged from a scar received during their escape from the camp), and eighteen year-old Cid Highwind pushing Shion's wheelchair. Of all the orphans, Cid felt the most out of place, given his age, but had been assured there was a home for him with the others to help him transition into adulthood. Having spent the last ten months of their lives in hopeless perdition, all were malnourished, all were unclean, all were clothed in simple prison rags, and all had fractured spirits in desperate need of mending.

Their new guardian, "Grandmother Hikari," warmly greeted them all in the courtyard, promising them every luxury and freedom they were denied under the Dark Seeker's jurisdiction. A far enough distance away, Ansem and his top scientist, Even, conversed about the future.

The sage-king sighed through his nose as he beheld the seven youths being welcomed into their new lives. "Prince Scott's death was tragic enough. Now, we must burden our consciences by deceiving these children."

Even, the scientist beside him, replied, "Master Ansem, you know this is the most merciful way to handle the situation. The Dark Seeker's adult prisoners' immune systems were resistant to the long-term effects of his experiments, but the children…they weren't so lucky. Granted, the dark energy they were infused with hasn't spread past the microscopic level, but there's no guarantee it won't over time. If that's the case, these children will succumb to it sooner or later and we'll need to be there to stop them. At least this way, they'll believe it was only charity that granted them a new home."

"But how long can this ruse last? If any of them give in to the dark energy that monster cursed them with, how will we handle this? You know as well as I there's no known cure for their condition. The poison dormant in them will one day awaken, and when these children learn the truth of their nature, this illusion of a loving home will shatter and they will die feeling alone and reviled."

"That's not a definite possibility," the scientist tried to assure him. "There's still a slim chance the Darkness may not awaken at all, and even if it does, it won't overtake them all at once. It'll take years for them to even be aware of it, and hopefully, by then, we'll have synthesized a cure or a treatment for them."

"But this is pure conjecture, Even. We are faced with a threat yet unknown to us, and if we cannot understand our enemy, how can we hope to fight it?"

Even was silent some few moments, mildly taken aback by his superior's attitude. "I've never known you to be a pessimist, Master Ansem. Why now of all times?"

Grandmother Hikari had finished greeting the children and she now led them inside the grand estate. The royal guards, Dilan and Aeleus, stood on either side of the entrance. The sage-king gazed dejectedly at the orphans as the guards closed the doors behind them. "One night before Prince Scott discovered the existence of this 'Dark Seeker' and freed his victims, I had another prophetic dream."

Even's eyes widened in silent alarm. "But…you've not had such a dream in years! …Well, no matter—if you've divined the worriment, the solution can't be far behind."

The older man showed no signs of encouragement, but his remorse only deepened. The children were inside by now, likely settling in and marveling at the majesty of their new home. Ansem relayed to his disciple, "After witnessing such a dream as this, I fear there will be no solution uncovered in our lifetimes. I beheld our world conquered by beings of pure Darkness. They corrupted our planet to its very core and slew countless innocents, turning the earth itself inhospitable to those of flesh and blood. Some refugees escaped and discovered other inhabited worlds, where they sought havens from the shadowy monsters which persecuted them. But the dark creatures spread their reach all across the cosmos, devouring entire worlds and bringing only death and despair."

By now, Even was petrified at what he heard. The supposed existence of life among the stars was, in itself, beyond rational consideration, but for those other worlds and the trillions of lives they sustained to be destroyed by what was essentially an army from Hell…

Ansem continued, "And yet, the most frightening revelation was discovering who was behind such an incorrigible act of genocide…"

 _The Dark Seeker_ , Even guessed in his mind. _It has to be!_

"Though I could not see the perpetrator's face, I heard his name clearly enough." He briefly choked and swallowed the pangs of sorrow building within him just enough to finish speaking. "He was called 'Ansem: the Seeker of Darkness.'"

"Preposterous!" Even screamed indignantly. "You would never tread such a path! You are the sage-king of Radiant Garden and have always been faithful to the needs of the people; it is completely absurd to believe you would ever become such a monster!"

"I don't profess to know if it was truly I who doomed the universe: only that the madman used my name."

Even scoffed. "You're talking about this omen as though it's already happened. Was there truly no silver lining? Hasn't your wisdom divined a means of survival as well?"

Ansem shook his head. "Nothing."

The scientist took some moments to ponder the weighty revelation. "Are you telling me those seven children will cause the end of the universe?"

"The true identity of the Darkness' catalyst evaded me. It may be a force that grows within these children or it may be another entity altogether. All I truly know is that Darkness will come and we will be powerless against it."

Even scowled. "Then, why keep these seven alive if they're as potentially dangerous as you say? If we dispose of them—"

Ansem turned to him, his features sharp and incensed. "Murder seven children for crimes they did not commit? Whether or not they prove to be the catalyst, we cannot act against them until we are completely certain. If we act on fear and burn everyone _accused_ of witchery, then how are we better than the dark creatures that would murder _us_? If we are to survive, we must be the better species and prove we are _worthy_ of surviving."

The scientist was no less incensed. "So, that's it? Merely _observe_ the little time-bombs and wait for our deaths?"

Ansem smiled wryly. "Who's the pessimist now? For the time being, your orders are to study the children, periodically scan them for any dark anomalies in their genes, and research a cure or a treatment to save them, no matter how futile the efforts. In the meantime, I will build our armies to prepare us for the day when this so-called 'Ansem' draws first blood." The sun finally set behind the horizon and night claimed the sky, casting all in shadow with only the stars to provide light. "Armageddon is coming—there's no stopping it—but if we are prepared, we may just be able to survive it."

* * *

A form concealed in tattered and frayed black cloth stood wraithlike atop a cliff overlooking the liberated internment camp. By now, it was swarming with Radiant Garden's forces, actively seeking a trail that would lead them to the vanished owner's whereabouts. Only the light of the moon illuminated the man's vague frame beneath his cloak: tall and slim, yet broad-shouldered and toned. Contrasting the dark shadows under the veil's cowl was a full-faced mask: equal parts weathered bronze and tempered ceramic. Pale, sallow eyes peered from behind the mask and observed in minute detail the goings on of the distant death-camp he'd lost to the enemy. No human eyes could have seen what he did across that great expanse, yet physical distance was a barrier ignored by the masked man's senses.

 _All that work…lost… We will need to rebuild. My former master will not defeat me so easily._

Another presence with a heart as black as his own manifested behind him. _Xehanort._

He regarded his visitor, his voice crisp and yielding dense, metallic echoes, "I was wondering if you'd come around."

The elderly man replied with a wicked smile on his face, "I had to see it for myself, O great Seeker," he addressed him sardonically, "but it seems Ansem has defeated you. Your test subjects have been liberated and will profess all they've endured to the most powerful man on this world. The sage-king now knows there is a growing darkness beyond his borders and he knows its name: 'the Dark Seeker.' How long will you last with all of Radiant Garden demanding your head on a pike?"

"A minor setback—nothing more," the masked Seeker coolly retorted. "There are still other worlds we're harvesting from, and Ansem knows nothing of their existence. My Dark Warrior program _will_ see results, and in fourteen years' time, when the Heartless finally meet their match, my new soldiers will be more than ready for deployment. No stray child wielding a Keyblade shall vanquish us."

Xehanort sneered. "Your prophecies again. There are times when even my patience is tested by your lack of evidence. And yet, gathering these 'Princesses of Heart' is proving to be a worthwhile investment. Three already have been captured and four remain."

"Two of those four might not have been born yet, and the other two's whereabouts are currently unknown," the masked Seeker replied. "But it pleases me to know you've found faith in these 'prophecies' of mine."

A skeptical look crossed the old man's face. "Still, I wonder just how much you've kept to yourself. You claim to know the future, but I doubt you've told me all that is necessary."

The Dark Seeker in the bronze-and-clay mask answered, "I assure you, Xehanort, your prosperity is and has always been my top priority. You are the savior I foresaw in my visions: the hero who led the universe into Darkness and paved the way for its glorious rebirth. But everything I choose to withhold is only for your benefit. There are things you are not yet ready to know, but when the time comes, I shall reveal all."

The old man smiled. "And is your name also one of these terrible truths you're foresworn to withhold?"

A deep silence lingered between them, until, to Xehanort's great amusement, the so-called prophet avowed, "It is I: Ansem, the Seeker of Darkness." Xehanort's ancient visage brightened considerably into a wide-eyed and twisted smile at hearing his ally's audacious or foolish declaration; they both knew Ansem was the sage-king of Radiant Garden whose heart was much too fearful of Darkness to actively seek it in the same manner they did, so why would the Seeker proclaim himself as such? The masked prophet answered the old man's musings, "The day you understand these words is the day we become equals. Until then, your faith in me will be enough."

The old man scoffed. "So far, you've given me no cause to doubt your knowledge of the future. It is only what you keep hidden that urges my caution."

A short silence passed. Both conspirators sensed a half-dozen energy signatures approaching the rock face—no doubt they were a scouting party from the liberated internment camp, still searching for a trail to the Seeker's whereabouts. The Seeker didn't care to be there when they arrived and only spoke once more with the metallic echoes of his unearthly voice, "Another prophecy before I go: Continue pushing Ventus to reach his fullest potential as you are and, in one year's time, he'll reach his breaking point and be utterly useless to you as a vessel. Extract his inner Darkness and send his empty shell to train with Eraqus. Three years afterward, he and his inner Darkness will reunite and forge the χ-blade. If you ensure their survival, that mighty weapon will be yours and the galactic rebirth we've sought will become reality."

Xehanort's features tensed. For as favorable as the prediction seemed, he'd caught that important detail about Ventus being useless as his new vessel. His own body was nearing its expiration date, and without a younger one to transfer his heart into, he would have to search elsewhere for a host to maintain his existence—no easy task. The Seeker noted this and continued, "I see your worry. What good is creating a brave new frontier if you won't live to see it? But rest assured. A suitable vessel _will_ present itself to you. With it, you'll live to see your dreams realized in a body that is young and teeming with Darkness. It will be everything you've ever desired, but only if the χ-blade is forged and preserved."

With those final words, dark tendrils crawled up from the ground, slithering over the Seeker's form, and in a final flash of Darkness, he vanished, leaving the old man alone to ponder his words, as he had so often done in the past.

Xehanort sensed the presence of Radiant Garden's soldiers converging behind him on the precipice and allowed a gleeful, malicious smile to creep over his ancient visage.

"You there!" The squad leader barked as he and his inferiors raised their weapons at him, "Who are you?! State your business!"

The old man closed his eyes and chuckled in amusement, hardly paying his attackers any mind. _Oh, Seeker, you arrogant fool. I will indeed have a prosperous future, but why should you have a place in it? When all you have is mine, our arrangement will come to an end. But would you do any different? The moment I cease being of use to you, you will surely discard me and take all that we've harvested for yourself. There is no dishonor in this._

The squad leader screamed again, "This is your last warning, old man! If you don't comply, we _will_ open fire! Who are you and what—?!"

With a clenching of his fist, Xehanort formed a deathly grip over the captain's heart, and as the master of Darkness raised his hand, the gagging soldier was levitated into the air to the horror of his subordinates.

 _The universe needs only one "Seeker of Darkness"…_

Reacting on fear, the other soldiers returned their focus to the old man and prepared to open fire, only for Xehanort to suddenly turn to face them and, with a rapid swipe of his arm, summoned the very earth beneath them to reach for the nightly heavens and impale the terrified souls on sporadic pikes and pillars of sharpened stone. The spastic jolting caused by the abrupt method of execution left sheer repulse to allow the soldiers to squeeze the triggers of their guns and briefly fire them in haphazard directions before their blood and screams finally yielded to their deaths.

 _…and when the time comes for us to poise our knives at each other's backs, I will be the faster and stand triumphant as the once and future Deliverer of Darkness. If my suspicions regarding the source of your knowledge of the future ring true, then you are no prophet at all…_

Only the squad leader, still suspended in the air, was left alive. Xehanort had wanted to harvest as much terror from his feeble heart as possible, and when the Dark Master was satisfied, he squeezed his fist completely shut and ended him in a burst of his own lifeblood.

 _…and you will have no divine aid to warn you of my betrayal._


	2. Life Goes On

The "Gilgamesh" and "Enkidu" mentioned here are references to two characters from _Final Fantasy V_ , rather than their namesakes from the ancient Akkadian epic poem.

* * *

 **Chapter Two: Life Goes On**

Cid placed the crescent wrench on the metal counter in the back of the auto repair shop, swept his shoulder-length blonde hair back for a better view, and marveled at his creation. Even after spending the better part of the past year in captivity without a chance to practice his craft, he'd managed to build _this_ in only ten days' worth of free time. The teenager smiled smugly. _Highwind, you still got it._

He pulled off a work glove and checked the watch on his wrist beneath. _Three o' two. Shift ends in two hours. The kid can wait 'til then._

His boss, a large man with a dark, heavy beard and almost always seen in an aviator's helmet and goggles, could be heard in his office arguing with a customer. This time, he'd called the patron a "spoony bard"…for some reason. The boss' name was also Cid. Cid Pollendina, to be exact.

Another coworker, Cid Fynn, was busy at work overhauling an airship's engine, while Cid Previa aided Cid nan Garlond in refitting the external plating of another dirigible, leaving Cid Bastok and Cidney (the only woman, whose name was also coincidentally Cid-based) to attend to various repairs on the land-based vehicles also in the garage. They all worked at Cids' Auto Shop.

* * *

The clock had struck three in the afternoon just over two minutes ago, but Shion couldn't hear it. Like everything beyond the nursery, she'd chosen to block it out. Kairi had been sleeping peacefully in her crib for an unnervingly long time—she was overdue for a nightmare or some other feeling of discomfort that would rouse her awake and wailing for help. Shion had resolved to watch her for just such an emergency. This was the way it had been since she was born; with no birth-mother to care for the infant, Shion unwaveringly accepted the unspoken responsibilities that a guardian was tasked with when caring for a child. She hadn't expected Kairi to need _this_ much monitoring, and Grandmother Hikari had told her that no one as young as her should ever have to assume so much responsibility but should instead enjoy her youth while she had it. But Shion couldn't take her mind off the baby. Tired as she was, she _needed_ to always be there for her.

But her preadolescent body had other plans, and before she knew it, Shion gradually fell asleep in her wheelchair in front of Kairi's crib. When Grandmother discovered this, she draped a quilt over Shion, turned off the light, and closed the door behind her as she smiled at both sisters enjoying their naps.

* * *

It was half-past five when Cid returned from work, grimy and sweaty and odorously offensive to stand in the presence of. Such was the agony the guardsmen, Dilan and Aeleus, had to endure as they greeted him at the front door.

Aeleus cringed. "Welcome home, Highwind."

Dilan added, "You're fragrant as ever," as he opened the smaller, single-person-sized front door contained within the far larger pair.

The eighteen year-old smirked, his young face contrasted by the black smudge and light, blonde stubble. His grubby face was all the more visible since he wore his shoulder-length hair swept back and his goggles loosely reposed around his neck. "Evenin' gents," he greeted. "Hope the doors've been good company."

A duffel bag was slung over Cid's shoulder. Dilan noted it, "I should hope those aren't dangerous explosives you're smuggling in here."

The young mechanic smiled. "What, this? Just a present I've been working on for Shion."

Aeleus grunted. "I pray you shower before giving it to her. The poor girl doesn't need to lose her nose as well."

Cid smirked at him knowingly. "Trust me. This'll be worth it."

* * *

It was nearly six when the freshly-showered mechanic delicately opened the door to the nursery and found Shion sleeping in her wheelchair before Kairi's crib, a quilt covering the raven-haired ten year-old. Cid smiled. Grandmother Hikari had asked him to wake Shion and bring her downstairs for dinner. They were in for a surprise.

He flicked on the light, grateful it didn't disturb the infant, and gently rustled Shion from her rest. "Hey, kiddo," he whispered, mindful not to wake the sleeping newborn only a few feet away.

A soft moan indicated the girl's return to consciousness, and when her weary eyes opened at their own pace, she stretched her arms and yawned, brushing aside the sable tresses from her face as she stirred. Like the other orphans—Cid being the obvious exception—she'd had a haircut since moving in with Grandmother Hikari; her once-waist-length hair now reached a less cumbersome extent just below her shoulder blade. Awake enough, she found Cid at her side, the eldest of the orphans who'd always carried her up the stairs and then gone back for the wheelchair until the lift was installed. Of all her new step-siblings, Cid was Shion's favorite.

"Hey, Cid," she greeted groggily. "What time is it?"

"Supper time. Granny says to get your butt downstairs pronto."

Shion rubbed more of the drowsiness from her eyes. "M'kay. Race you down."

He placed a hand on the chair's armrest. "Not so fast there, kid." He held up the duffel bag. "I got you a present first."

A curious smile graced Shion. "Is it my birthday already?"

Cid almost spoke, but stopped to think just before handing her the sack. "Come to think of it, we dunno when _any_ of each other's birthdays are." He chuckled. "Well, Merry Unbirthday."

She giggled a bit at that, then accepted the bag and pulled it open by the zipper. At the first inch, she hadn't the faintest idea what the present might be. Four inches later, the mystery only intensified. In another three, a solid idea formed in her mind. By the tenth, she knew what it was and was totally breathless with jubilation, joyful tears forming in her eyes as she brought a hand over her mouth.

* * *

Grandmother Hikari asked from across the dining table, "Squall, dear, could please see what's taking Cid and Shion so long?"

He didn't like being called "dear," but the scarred eleven year-old didn't mind an excuse to stretch his legs and have time away from his step-family, no matter how brief the intermission would be. It wasn't that he disliked them personally, but since Cid spent most of his time away from the manor, Squall considered himself the alpha of the pack: the oldest child and also the coolest. These toddlers and children only cramped his style. Or, at least, that was the excuse he told himself. He needed a reason to keep his distance from others after the Seeker's concentration camp. He wasn't ready to open up. It didn't help that Aerith had earlier insisted on helping him change his bandages and reproachfully shouted "Squall Quentin Leonheart!" at him like a parent to a child the last time he refused her help, never minding that "Quentin" wasn't his middle name.

"Sure," he answered Grandmother stoically and left his chair.

Ienzo was now hungry enough to chew on the tablecloth. Yuffie was impressionable enough to join him.

Squall exited the dining hall, his hands stuffed in the pockets of his jeans, and entered the vast living room, where the wide flight of stairs against the far wall connected the ground level to everyone's rooms. But before he was halfway across the lounge, he heard a slow, rhythmic clanking drawing steadily nearer from further up the stairs, followed by what was unmistakably Cid's voice. "Hey—easy! Easy! Don't rush it. Just keep going one step at a time."

Squall's curiosity was definitely piqued. _Is he talking to Shion? Is she—? Is she_ walking _?_

He ran forward to the foot of the stairs for a better view, stupefied and hardly believing what he saw. With her hand gripping the rail, Shion certainly was walking on two legs and Cid guided her descent from a few paces ahead on the stairs. Squall observed, beneath the girl's calf-length skirt, a metal prosthetic moving in awkward but steady motion with the natural limb. The artificial knee couldn't bend as gracefully as the organic, so she descended the stairs step-by-step—her good leg moving forward one step and her prosthetic coming forward to meet it, rather than to pass it as one without an above-knee prosthetic would do.

"Remember," Cid instructed, "rely on your good leg; keep your weight on the fake one."

Squall rubbed at his bewildered eyes in an attempt to separate the reality from the fantasy. Shion did have a prosthetic leg, but the awkwardness with which she lumbered suggested it wasn't bionic—not connected to any nerves for smooth functionality—but only a crudely humanoid metal peg-leg. Much of it was hidden beneath the girl's skirt, but he could gather from her expression that she suffered no discomfort, meaning Cid had taken great care to ensure his amateur contraption fit cozily for their step-sister…or so Squall hoped.

"Take your time," Cid coached after Shion briefly stumbled. "Don't rush or power through anything. Just keep goin' one step at a time."

Shion's eyes met Squall's, and she couldn't help but smile somewhat shyly now that she had an audience. She hoped the shock he was clearly exhibiting didn't strain his half-bandaged face.

Another voice called from across the room—Aerith's. "Is Shion walking?!"

That roused everyone's attention. Seated at the edge of the table, Aerith was the only one among the diners with a barely sufficient view of Shion's trek. Sudden exclamations of surprise sounded across the table, followed by the clamor of chairs scraping and shuffling as their former occupants bolted from the dining room and into the main hall. They all assembled hastily before the stairs, passing Squall in their excitement. Yuffie, Aerith, Ienzo, and Grandmother Hikari were soon among the bewildered spectators, and soon shouts of joy were cried as everyone congratulated now-flustered Shion.

It was then, among everyone she loved, that Shion's vision shifted suddenly to a scene at once foreign and familiar to her: there stood four of her family-members—Cid, Aerith, Yuffie, and Squall—all much older and gathered by gaslight at the main street of a warmly-hued town of cobblestone under a starry night sky. And Shion was at once herself and…someone else. Though unseen by her limited perspective, the body she inhabited didn't feel as though it was wholly hers, yet inhabiting it felt natural all the same. She sensed two other presences beside her, out of her field of vision, and assumed these were Ienzo and Kairi.

 _"Look out for each other,"_ instructed the older, scarred portrait of Squall. _"Keep your spirits up."_ Was he speaking to her? Were she, Ienzo, and Kairi going away somewhere?

This sudden occurrence of jamais vu—the first since divining Kairi's name in the hospital ten days ago—stole Shion's focus and balance from her, and a misstep of her prosthetic leg launched her forward from the stairs and safely in Cid's arms, her face planted against his chest.

"Whoa there, kid!" he exclaimed in surprise as the others gasped at her fall in unison. When the shock subsided and everyone knew she was okay, Cid met his mortified step-sister with the smile that always brightened her spirits, "Heh. Looks like we've still got a few kinks to work out."

Shion smiled back, still humiliated from her blunder, but profoundly grateful for being in such loving company. After a year in the Dark Seeker's death-camp, her new home felt like her heavenly reward.

The high-pitched cry of Kairi's infant voice wailed through all nearby rooms of the mansion, and the mood was instantly soured. Shion would have pushed herself back into a balanced position and awkwardly made for Kairi's room had it not been for Grandmother Hikari passing her and curtly affirming, "I'll get her. You children enjoy your dinner."

* * *

Six months passed. No breakthroughs had been made for the children's condition.

Ansem stood at a tall window in his private office, overlooking his estate's courtyard. So much time and resources had been spent building and strengthening his armies ever since the prophetic dream of the "Ansem" who plunged the galaxy into Darkness. The people knew to trust the sage-king's visions and the measures he took to meet them—it was how he earned the title "Ansem the Wise"—and the citizens almost unanimously, if not wearily, accepted the increase in taxes for their kingdom's defense. But even still, the increased presence of soldiers, the various new mechs some piloted, and the sky-blotting patrols of the monolithic zeppelins instilled a powerful sense of fear and unease, rather than one of comfort, just as Ansem ruefully expected. For, if this rapid militarization—the heavily-armed forces stationed at every corner and the airships obstructing the sunlight—was their defense, then just how cataclysmic of threat were they expecting, and when would it strike?

This was the weight the aging sage-king shouldered, and he silently dreaded how exponentially it would increase when war finally came.

And yet, Ansem knew a bittersweet glimmer of hope. Against every projected tragedy attempting to crush him, he could see, just outside his window, three of the children he'd rescued enjoying a late afternoon stroll. Perhaps it was because of his inability to have children of his own, but despite his busy schedule, he'd come to think of the orphans as his own family and tried to memorize as much information about them as possible.

The first of the three on their present outing was eight-year-old Aerith Gainsborough, jubilant as ever, yet there was a subtle grace to her in how she carried her parasol that foretold a sort of potential elegance in adulthood.

She held a lively conversation with ten-year-old Shion, from a village where last names were unpracticed. Despite this, the children had all assumed the surname "Hikari" in reverence of the grandmother who took them all in. By now, Shion Hikari was a natural with the prosthetic leg Cid made for her (this was the second, more functional model, in fact), and the long skirts she wore hid the slightly awkward limp in her gait so that none could see her disability on sight.

The third was six-month-old Kairi in the stroller Shion pushed. Now old enough to emote more than discomfort and hunger, Kairi had become notably bubbly and joyful from having such a loving family. And unlike the others, she would grow up with no memories of the Dark Seeker's prison camp. A short layer of red hair was beginning to grow in.

Ansem beheld this precious scene and smiled. But that smile faltered when the children reached the first newly-installed checkpoint, where one of the stationed guards under Dilan's command requested their business before letting them proceed—not unkindly and not enough to dampen the girls' spirits, but just enough to remind Ansem of how bleak the world had become. By the time the sage-king heard footsteps approach him from behind, the sentinel had finished reviewing the girls' papers and making sure it was really a baby inside the carriage and not any sort of hidden explosive. Kairi giggled at the sight of him as his face drew close for the inspection, and her laughter prompted a soft smile from the young soldier. With protocol concluded, he ordered the two on-duty mech pilots to clear a path for the three.

Then, they were out of Ansem's sight.

The old king sighed.

"Master Ansem?" His top scientist called from the doorway.

"What is it, Even?"

He placed an opened envelope on his king's desk. "I've Aeleus' latest report on the mecha suits we assigned his unit. He still claims they're inadequate by his standards, but it sounds to me like he's too stubborn to accept that war is changing."

Ansem turned to face him. "Perhaps he'd be more accepting of these radical changes if he had a hand in shaping them."

Even raised an eyebrow. "You mean, enlist him as a project consultant?"

"Our knight-captain may harbor a very traditional mindset, but he is also one of the greatest warriors our kingdom has ever known. Some historians are already comparing him to Gilgamesh and Enkidu. Perhaps he has a bit of wisdom to pass on to this new generation of mechanized soldiers."

Even sighed. "I'll see what we can do." Then, he brought one of the manila folders held under his arm to his leader's attention, handing it to Ansem so he could follow along. "In other news, we've finally finished the blueprints for a prototype ship for the new space program."

Ansem grunted in acknowledgement. "And I assume it's still too early to estimate when we'll be able to traverse the ether for other worlds?"

"Far too early. And scientific curiosity aside, it's not a project I'm enthusiastic about, either. There's a good chance that many of the worlds we seek to form an alliance with against the Dark Seeker will be significantly more advanced than ours, and though we would ultimately stand to benefit from meeting stronger civilizations, Radiant Garden would no doubt suffer a blow to its morale."

Ansem grinned. "Then we'd best practice our 'humble' faces, Even. We'll want to make a good impression."

The scientist cringed and replied sarcastically, "I can hardly wait…"

There was a short silence as Ansem perused the notes and blueprints for their spaceship prototype. He groaned internally at wondering how many more designs and redesigns would find themselves on his desk through the years if their plans of space travel proved as arduous to realize as he feared. And that wasn't even considering the inevitable impairment of their already-dwindling treasury.

Even spoke again with some hesitance in his voice. "There is…one other matter."

The sage-king briefly closed his eyes and exhaled to manage the oncoming stress. "The children?"

"Yes sir."

He readied himself for the worst. "Let's hear it."

Even handed him the other folder under his arm and reported, "It's as we feared. Their Darkness is spreading. It's still at the microscopic level, but there's far more of it now than before."

Ansem asked wearily, "How goes the cure?"

"We've been trying to use antibodies from the freed adult prisoners to synthesize something, but to no effect."

The sage-king rubbed a hand over his face in an effort to quell the draining effect the news had on his heart. It didn't work. "How long do they have?"

"If their growth continues at its current rate, perhaps several years. If it suddenly turns exponential…"

The sage-king waved his hand and turned away. "I've heard enough."

"But we did recently confirm an oddity that might prove useful," Even persisted.

His hopes hadn't raised, but he asked anyways, "What oddity?"

Even replied, "The infant, Kairi—she hasn't been infected."

At this, the sage-king's eyes shot open and he heel-turned back to face his apprentice. "How is that possible? Only the adults have proven to be immune."

"I can't yet explain it, sir, but Kairi does seem to be somehow immune. Either that or she wasn't exposed to the same elements nearly as long as the other children and so never had the chance for infection. She was only two days old when we shut down the facility. But even still, I'd like to analyze a sample of her blood for antibodies to begin work on a new cure."

"Then do so!—as soon as you are able!"

"Of course, sir. I only needed your approval." He hesitated, then added, "Where is the child right now?"

Ansem nearly blurted the answer with the same zeal as before, but he calmed himself when realization settled in. "Taking an afternoon stroll with two of her sisters. Let them enjoy the rest of their outing. There's no need to interrupt or frighten them." Even noted the wistful countenance that claimed his mentor's wrinkled face then. The weary king concluded, "We've disturbed the peace enough with all this drastic militarization upon learning of the Dark Seeker. The people are fearful enough, and these new security measures have given them anything but peace. They can't even enjoy a clear sky anymore without seeing our warships tainting the heavens. It's very possible that this environment will raise a generation bred of unnatural paranoia. If we can preserve even these three children's sense of tranquility for as little time as we are able, then we owe it to decency to do so."

Even raised an eyebrow. "Then, I should wait until after they come back?"

"After supper," his king advised.

The scientist nodded. "Ah, yes. If I'm administering a shot to an infant, she'll want to have her strength up first."

"And be careful with how you approach her. The Dark Seeker won't gain an advantage on us just because we remember our bedside manner."

* * *

Ventus fell to his knees atop the sandy dune, screaming in mindless agony at the heavens as his eyes turned ghost-white and trails of shadow emanated from his fatigued body and heavy robes. The sandstorm intensified.

"Control it! Control it!" Master Xehanort shrieked at him in what seemed simultaneously from inside the boy's skull and from the other side of the universe.

But the growing Darkness was too much for Ven, and at length, after training for what seemed a painful eternity under Xehanort's sadistic guidance to allow Darkness to flow as freely as blood through his body while also controlling it as a weapon—to forge the χ-blade—something inside Ventus _broke_. He froze then, eerily lifeless and subject to every whim of nature with no will of his own to resist. He fell forward—just before Xehanort could snatch him by the back of his collar—and face-planted against the sandbank's downward slope, and there he fell, tumbling beyond sentient control until gravity finished its work and he rolled, unconscious, onto his side on the desert floor. Xehanort was only seconds behind, equal parts fearful and exhilarated. He reached Ven's immobile form and knelt beside him, quickly turning him over so he could place his hand over his heart for a diagnosis. When the magic scan was complete, the aged Master's silent euphoria became limitless. _Six months early…_

Hidden behind the coverings of his desert robes though his mouth was, what began as muffled cackles exploded into all-out hysteria. "I've done it!" he bellowed to the shrouded heavens, paying no mind to the millions of sand grains racking him through the mounting wind. "I've broken him! Where are your prophecies now, Seeker?!"

The Darkness inside Ven was killing him, just as the masked Seeker predicted it would, but Xehanort had rejected the chronology and pushed this achievement half a year ahead of schedule. A prophet sees the future, the elderly Keybearer had reasoned, but if the future diverges so radically from what had been predicted, the prophet was either capable of being defeated, or a fraud. Xehanort was satisfied with either, so long as it meant the Seeker was fallible.

Knowing Ven would never control this much Darkness inside him and survive, the aged Master returned to his feet, summoned his Keyblade in a burst of shadow, poised it over the boy's chest, and fired a concentrated beam of Darkness directly into his heart. It was there, amidst a terrible sandstorm and at the brusque extraction of another's inner Darkness six months before the prophet had foretold, that Vanitas would manifest in the realm of the living.

Only time would tell what consequences this change in schedule would bring.

* * *

[Author's note] Mechs and militaries in a Kingdom Hearts story? I think my Metal Gear is showing...


	3. Stardust and Blood

**Chapter Three: Stardust and Blood**

Teaching Kairi to walk seemed harmless. No one expected her to climb trees so soon after. Shion regretted her part in helping her infant sister take her first steps as she found herself hanging upside-down between two narrowly forked branches by her prosthetic leg, reaching in vain for the red-headed sixteen-month-old seated comfortably another branch away. With her skirt upended and her buttoned blouse partially so by gravity's pull, Shion was at least grateful she'd chosen shorts for underwear that day.

With Cid at work, Squall—now the first teenager among his peers and growing his hair out in accordance with the experimental counterculture mindset that came with his age—was now the eldest of the group, though only with one year ahead of Shion. And as such, sibling-retrieval duty fell upon him when the others found Shion attempting to subdue tree-climbing Kairi all by herself, and he accepted this burden with equal parts annoyance and alacrity. So, he set off climbing the imposing tree beside a rustic house in the burgs with ten-year-old Aerith, seven-year-old Ienzo, four-year-old Yuffie, and Grandmother Hikari anxiously cheering him on and encouraging Shion that help was on its way. Things would've gone much smoother and quicker if Squall wasn't secretly scared of heights, or if the owner of the house would notice the commotion and run outside with a ladder. Grandmother Hikari rushed to the door and knocked on it with all her might, pleading for the seemingly-absent homeowner to answer and procure such a ladder.

Naturally, Kairi found this all hilarious.

Upside-down Shion raised an unamused eyebrow at her toddler sister, her shoulder-blade-length raven hair hanging like a graceless curtain about her head. "You're really getting a kick out of this, aren't you?"

The toddler squealed with delight in reply.

Annoyed, Shion reached for the joyful bundle of agony again. "Now, how about you come just a little bit closer…"

She realized the error of her judgment when Kairi did exactly that. The toddler leaned forward from her branch to grab onto the ravenette's finger, and though she formed a grip, she lost her balance and fell heart-stoppingly off the tree limb. Shrieking, Shion caught her sister by the leg mid-fall, leaving the pair hanging upside-down: Shion by her prosthetic leg betwixt the forking branches, and Kairi by her protector's grip just above her ankle.

Everyone's efforts intensified on the ground-level to adapt to the unfortunate new development. Squall, meanwhile, only froze in terror and became unable to climb any higher.

"Squall, keep climbing!" Aerith tried to urge him.

Petrified but too proud to show it, the scarred brunette briefly overrode fear with anger and shouted back, "I can't! There's nothing to grab on!" A lie, but one no one could object to in the frenzy of the moment.

By then, Shion had begun pulling Kairi upward to better secure her in her arms. And once her little sister was hugged against her torso, Shion took another look at the awkward positioning of her false leg and committed to what she knew was a gamble. With the blood rushing to her head, she attempted a sit-up to reach the branch with her hands and pull herself upward. But with her own immature muscles and the extra weight of Kairi's twenty-five pound body, she couldn't even pull herself up halfway, and the strain this caused where her flesh met her metal knee—

 _SNAP!_

Everyone's hearts stopped as the locks to Shion's prosthetic broke off from her foreleg and the two sisters fell from the tree—Shion with her back to the ground and pulling Kairi instinctively closer against her chest for protection—and crashed through the rotting shingles of the roof, into the sagging mattress directly below, and were jolted from the weary springs three feet into the air until they crashed and rolled onto the hard floor only half a second before the piles of roof material collapsed onto the now-broken bed. Shion had dutifully used herself as a shield for Kairi, taking the brunt of the damage and left motionless as she finally ceased rolling on her side.

A sickening silence passed, but her family soon rushed to the locked front door and pounded even harder, hoping against all hope that someone would answer and help the two sisters lying prone on the living room floor. They knew at least Kairi was fine because of her loud crying, but Shion was completely silent and motionless. Only Squall was unfortunate enough to have a perfect view of his sisters' violent descent and Shion's unmoving body. His heart broke at his own inability to save them.

"Let me through!" Aerith's young voice commanded her family members with unexpected authority. They immediately did so, and Aerith had just as quickly reached the door and was attempting to pick the lock with a pair of bobby pins from her hair.

Silence washed over the family yet again, but this time for a different reason.

"Aerith," Grandmother Hikari gasped in almost tangible distress but with no intention to stop her, "where on earth did you learn something like this?!"

"Cid taught us," the sundress-wearing ten-year-old briskly answered, never once taking her focus off the objective at hand.

"Taught _us_?" Grandmother breathlessly repeated, realizing then that every one of her precious children—save for Kairi—probably knew how to pick a lock. She would scold Cid for this later, but now she was only too hopeful that these criminal skills would save her daughters' lives.

"Almost got it," Aerith assured her family, but then yelped back in shock as the glass in the window pane beside her suddenly exploded from an unseen impact.

All heads were turned to Ienzo, who'd thrown a fist-sized rock through the window without any thought for how he could harm Aerith or the two girls inside, and then he wordlessly reached a hand through the new opening to unlock the door. As soon as he finished and brought his arm back outside, Grandmother Hikari dashed through the now-unbarred door and ran to the two sisters lying on the floor. Yuffie, a toddler still impressionable to the examples set by her silver-haired stepbrother, threw her own, smaller rock at the window pane next to Ienzo's. She only managed a sizeable crack, but was pleased with herself all the same.

None had bothered to notice that Squall was still in the tree, climbing down as fast as he was able, but far slower than he wanted.

"Shion, honey, are you alright?!" Grandmother pleaded at the girl's side. She turned her over on her back and quickly but gently picked Kairi from the prone girl's arms and handed her to Aerith. From there, she used one hand to raise the ravenette into a reclined sitting position and the other to check her pulse.

Nothing.

By then, Squall had descended the tree and sprinted to the wide-open door, panting and speechless at the scene before him—four of his siblings gathered around Shion's unmoving body, and his elderly guardian gazing at him with tear-soaked eyes. "Squall," she choked, "find a healer! Hurry!"

He already failed everyone when he let his fear of heights prevent him from reaching his sisters. He wasn't about to fail them again. He took off running at once further into the burgs, shouting for a doctor of any sort to come to their rescue. He didn't make it very far before what appeared to be a deluge of multicolored stars sped through the air in a concentrated torrent from the horizon to the house's doorstep, then began its skidding halt as it screeched towards the grieving family. Yuffie shrieked and threw an instinctive fist at the star-wave, halting it with her knuckles and prompting a pained "Oomph!" from the cosmic cluster. In the nanoseconds that followed, the stars yielded the form of a scarecrow-thin, cartoonishly long-bearded elderly man in a red, yellow, and blue striped shirt, palm-tree-themed swimming trunks, red sneakers, a baseball cap, and a large pair of yellow-rimmed sunglasses. The aged tourist—obviously just returned from his vacation—was doubled-over and staggering in pain, as Yuffie had punched him in the groin.

"Dash it all!" He blurted in fluctuating octaves as he stumbled around with his hands on his bruised crotch, "Why am I being assaulted in my own home?!"

"I punched his balls!" Yuffie announced more declaratively than anything else.

Ienzo patted her head. "Yes, good job Yuffie."

"Sir, we need a doctor!" Grandmother pleaded with the old man now writhing on the floor. "Do you know of any nearby?!"

When he was capable of lifting himself to a kneeled position, the bearded elder replied, though not without some lingering pain, "I—I may be able to help with that. Who needs to be heal—?" Then he saw the unconscious raven-haired girl in the old woman's arms. From there, he saw the pile of rubble on his collapsed bed and the gaping hole in his roof. His breath hitched and he muttered in silent bewilderment, "Oh dear…" Then he shook his head and moved closer. As he did, his tacky tourist clothes were transformed by a gust of magic into a long blue wizard's gown and cap, and his sunglasses into a much smaller pair of clear-glass spectacles, shocking everyone in the vicinity, but also giving them a strong new sense of hope against the dread they'd thus-far experienced. If anyone could save Shion, that someone was a wizard.

Merlin pressed a hand against the ravenette's bleeding temple, opening himself for a discharge of restorative magic, but in a span of what the others perceived as mere instants, a metaphysical pull from Shion's heart seized the old wizard and dragged his consciousness to meet her own.

* * *

In a plane unfathomed by the girl's worried family, Merlin fell through what seemed an expansive pool of water that shattered like glass and continued his descent through a sunset sky. In all his years of wizarding, he'd never experienced a phenomenon such as this. _What in heavens…? Where am I…?_

And as the wind rushed him by, his surroundings quickly became pitch-black, the only light coming from the trail he descended, and his destination became clear: a vast, circular, stained-glass surface some hundred yards below, depicting the image of a teenage boy with spiky brown hair and wielding what the old wizard recognized right away as a Keyblade. But something was wrong—the boy's peaceful face was horribly marred by dozens of sprawling cracks upon the glass that his image was imprinted on, leaving what may have once been a beautiful work of art a corrupted mess. Beside the gargantuan image of the enigmatic young man and his shattered mind were four smaller portraits, yet most of these were damaged beyond all repair as well. A humanoid dog and duck comprised two of the images at the boy's side, yet the glassy surface that their faces—their entire heads, in fact—were painted on were just as cracked as the boy's. What had happened to these three, that their crania—the haven for their thoughts and memories—was so irreparably damaged?

Directly beneath the dog-man's likeness was a circular frame identical to the other lesser portraits, but its contents were pitch-black—obscured by shadow and leaving no trace of who occupied that space, if anyone ever had at all.

But near the center of the stained-glass platform was the face of a red-haired girl somewhere in her early teens. Hers was the only portrait unmarred by whatever forces had devastated this mindscape, and it was on her face that Shion laid unconscious.

Merlin's feet softly touched the ground soon enough and he ran to the girl's side. Just as in the physical realm, she bore every injury inflicted from her fall and wasn't breathing.

Merlin sighed. "A lot of trouble you're giving me. Now, just hold a moment and I'll have you all fixed up."

 _"SHE MUSTN'T LIVE!"_ bellowed a deep, unearthly voice—no, two voices speaking from one body—and the wizard hastily spun around to face the new arrival. But as he turned, a legion of squawking ravens bolted from the floor, scattering shattered glass of the now-ruined surface of the platform all around, forcing Merlin to throw himself over Shion to shield her from the spray of jagged projectiles and the momentous rush of obsidian birds. The unending maelstrom of their ebony forms and ear-splitting cries blocked out the last of the dreamscape's light source, leaving all in shadow even after the last of their squawks ended and the last of their feathers fell.

 _"Stand away from the wretch, intruder! You know not what she's done!"_

Merlin returned to his feet, and a flicker of light emanated from the tip of his wand, a conservative radiance that only barely illuminated his upper body. He'd chosen to keep his light-source scant so that this new presence wouldn't see the girl lying behind him. Of course, he must've known where she was, but there was a desperate peace in knowing this fiend couldn't physically see her.

The ancient wizard bravely defied the conjoined voices from the darkness, "Sir, this girl is a guest in my home, and I'd rather not have anyone dying on my nice, clean carpet!"

He considered turning the fiend into a newt, himself into a germ, or Shion invisible, but decided against making any moves until he gauged what this being was capable of. Without knowledge of the situation, fight and flight could equally backfire. He could see just a faint outline of the enemy's humanoid frame now, at least three yards away.

 _"You old fool!"_ the dark fiend thrust an accusing finger in his direction, _"Trillions of lives have ended by the terror her existence has wrought! The worlds themselves are torn asunder by the Heartless armies her actions have unleashed, and our only savior rots in eternal slumber so long as this girl lives! Have you not seen the state of the worlds in these past twelve years?"_

Incredulous, Merlin glared at the shadowy accuser, now seeing the folds of a tattered cloak and wisps of long hair about his hood. The wizard retorted, "Sir, I have seen the other worlds—I traverse them quite frequently. But nowhere in my travels have I ever seen any such 'Heartless armies' as you claim, let alone any under this poor girl's command. There is no suffering in the worlds save for that which they commit by their own hands. I ask that you cease antagonizing this child for whatever crimes you imagine she's committed."

 _"SHE MUST DIE!"_ and the insidious fiend was upon Merlin in that instant, his gnarled, gloved hands clenching the life out of the old wizard's throat and forcing him, gasping, to his knees.

Merlin's physical strength was nothing to his oppressor, and in the following seconds, all his rushing mind was capable of was staring into the black abyss that was this hooded specter's face. Desperate and gagging, the wizard pressed a frail hand into that hooded void to learn something, _anything_ , about his murderer. That's when he felt it, running across the madman's eyes…

 _A blindfold?_

Epiphany struck him, and Merlin tore the cloth sash from his strangler's face and thrust his wand between them, intensifying the light discharge a thousand-fold and sending the villain reeling, screeching from where he stood, releasing his stranglehold and haphazardly bringing his arms to shield his face as he cowered from the wizard's light. In the moment of his release, Merlin saw just enough of the enemy's face: the decrepit and decaying visage of a corpse reanimated from its grave, ghostly pale eyes with hints of their former light blue color, and a straight but greasy mane of long silver hair.

Merlin noted how the dark-man cowered and writhed in the presence of the light. Looking back to the stolen blindfold in his grasp, the learned wizard confidently returned to his feet and slowly advanced toward his cloaked enemy. Holding high the blindfold in one hand and his light-discharging wand in the other, he bellowed with a powerful voice that belied his elderly human frame, "Do you fear the light, creature of darkness?! Be gone from here, and torment this girl no longer!"

The fiend screamed and stumbled back with every step the wizard gained on him. Even the thus-far reposed ravens surrounding them had panicked and scattered in a second maelstrom of their terrified forms. Cracks of light from above gradually returned without the obsidian birds to impede it. Soon, the congregation of ravens was completely dispersed, and the light from above returned as greatly as it was able to reach in these depths.

But the writhing, sightless villain screamed to the black horizon surrounding them, _"COME, DARKNESS! COME TO YOUR MASTER'S AID!"_

At his words, a vast legion of shimmering, malevolent golden eyes opened all around them, each set varying extremely in size, and the sudden appearance of these grumbling shadow-titans instilled a new wave of fear through the scholarly wizard's aged heart. He gasped and staggered back, closer to Shion's body—his stumble deactivating the light from his wand and prompting him to drop the stolen blindfold—and he beheld an army of darkness wholly beyond his power to banish by himself. He knew then that retreat was his only option.

The titans' collective roars thundered throughout the area, their reverberations testing the wizard's balance until he could only collapse forward at Shion's side. As the limbs and fangs of the dark giants drew closer, the ancient wizard placed his fingers over the girl's bleeding temple, hastily muttered his healing words, and—

* * *

Merlin's eyes shot open and he gasped for air as he found himself back in his crowded living room in the exact same position he was in before being pulled into the girl's subconscious.

In his mind, Merlin knew it was only mere instants that passed in the mortal plane. But that other world…that "dive to the heart"…that "station of awakening"… It had left him completely breathless.

But as he fought to catch his breath, Shion gradually regained hers. All lacerations had been sealed, all welts had been suppressed, and all disturbed bones that she'd suffered from the fall had been reset. Her young, cerulean eyes slowly opened, her breath returned, and the first thing she saw was the winded wizard too disturbed to express relief that she'd survived.

She wanted to ask, "Who are you?" when enough energy returned, but she was hugged tight by Grandmother Hikari in the next second, and all of her family members cried with unbridled joy at her return to the land of the living.

All of them except for Squall. He stood some feet away, frozen with regret and wonder at everything transpired. First he couldn't rescue Shion and Kairi from the tree, and then a random wizard appeared before he could find a doctor for his sister. This was the second time in one incident that he'd failed his family.

"Thank you so much for saving her!" Grandmother praised the wizard for his heroics.

It took a moment for him to clear his thoughts and understand what she'd said. "Hm? Ah, yes—yes, of course. Anytime, madam."

Shion's metal leg finally fell from the tree and clattered onto the mountain of rubble on Merlin's bed.

* * *

The wizard explained everything to the sage-king and his scientist by the manor's fireplace after the children's bedtimes. In turn, the two royals shared every apocalyptic secret they felt he needed to know given the circumstances. Even Grandmother Hikari was present, stoking the hearth to keep the embers strong.

"Is it possible that the one you faced was the Dark Seeker?" Ansem inquired after the wizard finished his testimony.

Merlin blew the smoke from his pipe before answering. "I very much doubt that. The Seeker you speak of must have been an intelligent, methodical man if he ran an entire nightmare facility under your noses for nearly a year. The man I faced in Shion's heart was clearly insane. He spoke of the worlds being destroyed by armies of darkness as though it already happened. I can verify this is not the case. No, these are two very different individuals we speak of."

Even voiced his concerns next, "I still find it astounding that myself and the other top scientists in the kingdom have been hard at work attempting to pierce the ether for nearly a year, yet you traverse the universe as though it's nothing."

"It's a skill that's taken lifetimes to perfect," the wizard replied, "and not one I'll divulge to warlords so readily."

Even's features tightened and he seethed in a heavy tone, "Watch your tongue, sorcerer! Do you dare insult your king like this?"

"Even, that's enough," Ansem calmly reproached his apprentice. The blonde scientist withdrew, but not without visible ire. The sage-king continued, "Merlin, I understand your caution in using your magic to aid a ruler who's made a militarized hell of his kingdom, but if you can offer an alternative that will spare my subjects' purses and peace of mind, I will pay you any sum you see fit for your services."

Grandmother Hikari returned to her seat by the men and poured herself a cup of tea from the near-empty pot on the table.

Merlin grunted disapprovingly at his king's request. "With all due respect, your majesty, it is not a wizard's place to meddle in the affairs of man. Not until man proves himself ready for the tremendous responsibility. How many conquests across space and time could I have played God for if I used my powers so irresponsibly? All rulers believe their cause is just, so why should I favor yours over the next king's?"

"But these are not political enemies we face," Ansem rebutted. "This is a literal war of light versus dark, of good versus evil."

Merlin raised an eyebrow as he exhaled another puff of smoke. "Do you believe darkness is evil? Do you claim that any force you do not fully understand is a one-sided abomination that must be destroyed?"

Ansem's tone just slightly rose, "That is not what I meant."

"No, no one means that their 'pure evil' enemy can be just as morally complex as themselves. The fact of the matter is, while these creatures of darkness are frightening and have been used for harmful purposes, we know virtually nothing about them. Are they sentient? Are they truly alive? Do they know they are harming us? Do they have hopes and dreams, just the same as you and I? What do they believe in? Have they any gods? _Why_ are they attacking us? That's the question of it all: _Why?_ " He paused to smoke again, then resumed, "Lord Ansem, you have my sympathies for the hardships you've endured in preparing for this 'Armageddon' your visions have warned you of, but from what I've seen of your kingdom, how not even the sky itself is free from your war-machines' grasp, I question if you are indeed the champion of peace you presume to be, or if your enemies are as malevolent as you claim."

Ansem sighed, knowing the drastic measures he'd taken made his case much more difficult to argue. "My friend, you were wise to pursue a vocation in wizardry and forsake all governmental ties. In the path you've chosen, I very much doubt your conscience is weighed down by any nation's creed or philosophies, and that you follow a moral code based on what your own experiences have taught you to be true. For this, I envy you. But I implore you to understand: most living souls cannot forsake their governments. They cannot embrace true freedom as their hearts yearn. We cannot shirk the earthly ties that bind us in favor of discovering the secrets of the universe and of ourselves. For our own mortal coils, we are bound to the systems of government that we happen to be born into, and in my people's case, they face total annihilation at the hands of an unknown threat they never chose to make an enemy of. They cannot ignore the approaching danger and pursue a wizarding path as you have done. Believe me, I desire nothing more than to return to the idyllic life we cherished before all this, but we are not fortunate enough to be as free and idealistic as you."

Merlin briefly chuckled. "Idyllic? Is that really how you imagine your kingdom was before this mess?" He shook his head wearily. "My friend, no system created by mortals can ever be 'idyllic.' At best, we are ignorant of the troubles that surround us, and that is hardly a scenario worth aspiring towards." He paused to smoke again, then resumed, "Tell me, do you know why I stayed?"

"To ensure Shion made a complete recovery, I assume."

"You assume correctly. I'm not in the business of war, Lord Ansem. I'm in the business of saving lives. That can mean many things to many people, but from what I saw in Shion's heart and from what you've told me of all these children being unnaturally infected with at least some sort of darkness, it would be impossible for me to simply walk away."

Even asked, "Are you saying you're going to help us?"

"Not you, no," the wizard replied. "But I'd like to help the children however I'm able."

"A cure, then?" Even asked again.

Merlin shook his head. "I'm afraid darkness of this sort is beyond my ability to mend. In the children's state, this darkness appears to require a scientific answer more than a magical one. I may not be able to sever the foreign bodies infecting these young ones, but I can give them the next best thing: an education."

At this, Even scoffed and Ansem raised a perplexed but expectant eyebrow.

It was Grandmother Hikari who spoke next. "I believe I understand your meaning, Mr. Merlin. If the children can't be cured of their condition, they can still be taught how to live with it. A missing cure doesn't have to be the end of the world for them. Is this correct?"

Merlin's face lit up at hearing the caretaker's extrapolation. "Precisely, madam! An education in all the relevant knowledge and life-skills is exactly what the children will need if they're to be burdened with the aftermath of that death-camp for the rest of their lives. Instead of fearing the darkness inside them one day awakening, I can teach them to coexist with it. The circumstances that brought them here are tragic, but it has also granted them extraordinary potential just waiting to be harnessed."

Ansem appeared disturbed by the implications, but kept himself under control. "Are you saying you want to teach them how to use this…dark power they've been infected with? This is the very thing I've sworn to protect my kingdom from, and you plan to encourage the children to embrace it?"

"Not embrace it, your highness," Merlin replied, "but _coexist_ with it. What they choose to do with what they learn is entirely up to them and completely within your authority to regulate, and I've no interest in teaching them how to use their second natures for violence, so they won't become a threat to you. Sir, this is a golden chance for you and your people to better understand the darkness you're so afraid of. If these children prove to be healthy, functional members of society in spite of or because of the foreign elements afflicting them, you only stand to benefit from whatever breakthroughs of knowledge their lives will yield."

Grandmother Hikari refilled Even's cup. He quickly thanked her and returned his attention to the conversation.

"And if their darkness proves to be malignant?" the sage-king queried. "What do you propose then?"

The old wizard sighed, weary at the thought of it. "Then you will have proven you were right to fear the dark. But you will never be certain unless you grant these children the chance to prove otherwise."

Even interjected, "You're requesting that we reveal to the children the true reason we took them in. If we do so, then we risk shattering this illusion of a loving home we've worked so hard to maintain. Can you imagine the betrayal they'd feel if they learned they were only time-bombs and we're the disposal team just waiting for them to start ticking?"

Merlin shrugged. "Then don't tell them you knew all along. Pretend you just found out. You'll keep your lie and give them a chance to improve themselves at the same time. Everybody wins."

Even asked, almost accusingly, "And what do you get out of this?"

"Me?" Merlin cocked an eyebrow. "Why, I get to bestow knowledge upon the next generation and save them from ignorance. What more could I want?"

The scientist persisted, "I trust that you won't push any beliefs upon them that conflict with our own?"

The wizard waved a dismissing hand. "At worst, I'll teach them to be more open-minded and form their own beliefs. If freedom of thought is against your society's values, you may want to rethink some things."

Even nearly snapped back at the insult, but Ansem spoke over him, "You certainly have my interest, master wizard. Had I known such a valuable mind resided in my kingdom all this time, I would've consulted you for this concern _long_ ago. Seeing as how we currently have no alternatives for the children's condition, I'm strongly considering your offer. What sort of compensation would you require?"

"Only food and lodging, if you can spare it. I'll stay out of your hair as much as possible while you and your colleagues run the kingdom."

Grandmother answered, "We have a spare room available, and there's always room for one more at my table."

Merlin beamed joyfully, "Madam, you are a godsend."

But the sage-king raised a hand, "Before we finalize any arrangements, there is one last concern I need answered." His eyes grew hard, and his features solemn. "How is it that you are such an authority on darkness? From what I've heard thus far, you may very well be an agent of the Dark Seeker come to infiltrate my kingdom."

The question irked him, but Merlin understood the king's shrewdness. "Your majesty, if I was in the Dark Seeker's employ and you were my target, this kingdom would be conquered by now."

The answer seemed to ease the king's fears, but he still waited for the rest of his question to be answered.

Merlin did just that. "But I confess, I'm not quite so knowledgeable of darkness as you may believe. Much of this will be a learning experience for me as well, and I'll need to pursue further reading to understand the specifics. But I have used my talents and wisdom to help many people across countless worlds realize their full potential and grow into extraordinary individuals. One of them even became a legendary king on his home-world, if you can believe that. And though these children's predicament is unique, many aspects of it are universal to all young people enduring great struggles in their lives. I may not be able to do everything, but I can do more than most."

At last, the sage-king was satisfied. For the first time in far too long, a genuine smile graced his weary features. "When can you start?"

* * *

The level roof spanned a dozen feet on each side before the tiles sloped into the seven-story drop, a stalwart gargoyle twice the size of a grown man stationed every several feet to ward off evils centuries gone by. And yet, every step seemed a deathtrap just waiting to hurl Squall to his doom.

He trembled inside his heavy jacket as he stood behind the precipice separating the door from the long, treacherous roof that appeared both eerie and inviting under the glimmering moonlight. A cold sweat threatened to overtake him, to give him second thoughts about confronting this demon which plagued him ever since his airship crashed when escaping the death-camp sixteen months ago.

Nerves and limbs still shivering from terror, the scarred brunette boy reached a trepid hand inside his coat pocket and produced a pair of yellow earbuds in his grasp.

 _I can still turn back… No one has to know…_

But he squeezed his eyes shut and gulped to repress the petrifying feeling threatening to overtake him.

 _No. I have to do this. What good am I to this family if I can't even conquer this fear of heights?_

Eyes still closed, he placed the miniature headphones inside his ears, reached inside his coat pocket yet again, and pressed the "play" button on his miniature cassette player. With a final click and the subsequent whirring of three-millimeter film spun by the twin spools in its plastic cartridge, the sound of artificial stars shimmering graced his ears, followed seconds later by the mellow strumming of an electric guitar.

Squall released his breath, visible in the night's chill air, and opened his eyes with newfound serenity and resolve.

As he took his first step across the daunting expanse, the smooth, haunting voice of a male rock n' roll singer began his soft tune.

 _I'll never close my eyes again_

 _He took my hand and opened up the radio_

 _Saw there weren't no wires, only stardust and blood and then_

 _The weaver was gone, lost in the fade of yesterday_

 _But I look up, see the sky, and I know_

 _We couldn't have won this any other way_

Thirty feet across the great expanse. Only twice did his knees buckle under pressure or the cold make him shiver, but Squall soldiered on, baring his tenacious, scarred face to the night. He shone like a star in the moonlight, bold and flickering, but unwavering in his resolve.

He saw the rising steeple only some thirty feet ahead, a fearsome gargoyle posted on each of the four corners, and as the spellbinding tempo slightly quickened and the chorus kicked in, he bolted into a sprint across the tiled roof to conquer his destination.

 _Ohh, star weaver watching in the skies_

 _Won't you find your way back to us_

 _And breathe life back into the night?_

He crossed the threshold and leapt onto the bulwark of the tower wall, securing a grip in its various architectural protrusions. Slowing down only for a second, he forced himself to begin climbing—no matter how slowly—and the chorus continued.

 _Ohh, star weaver watching in the skies_

 _Seize the strings that bind you_

 _And make the suns afraid to rise_

Ten feet up. He regretted not bringing gloves.

 _So we can fly_

The next handhold was mere inches beyond his reach. He clenched his teeth in spite.

 _O'er the barricades before us_

With a sudden thrust of his upper leg, he leapt some inches upward, fingers outstretched to reach the gargoyle's base…

 _Burn the skies and sing that chorus_

…only to miss entirely. He hit his jaw on the way down and plummeted uncontrollably backward for the roof. And as his vision refocused midway through his descent, he saw a figure near the doorway, watching him with terror and concern visibly exposed on her face. Squall's heart stopped. _Shion…?_

 _Until the day we die_

He crashed shoulder-blades-first onto the pearl tiles, the earphones dislodging upon impact.

 _"Squall!"_ the ravenette wanted to scream with every ounce of force her lungs were capable of producing, but the unspoken pact among the older children to never tell on each other—including never drawing attention to each other's crimes—killed her voice before conception for fear that a patrolling guard would hear her and punish them for being out so late, let alone on the roof. But that was hoping Squall was still alive and capable of being punished. After her plunge from Merlin's tree earlier that day, her mind instantly assumed the worst about her step-brother's fall. Still hugging tight the quilt draped around her for warmth, the twelve-year-old sprinted across the palace roof to Squall's side, her metal leg clanking and just slightly limping all the way.

Her greatest fears relented halfway across, when she saw him groaning and rolling over. Before he could sit back up, Shion knelt by his side, hands inches away from him for fear of disturbing an injury.

Her words came out sputtered and breathless, "Are you hurt? Is anything broken?"

Squall answered her with a grunt and a look somewhere between spite and bewilderment. He turned away, a hand held against his aching shoulder blade.

Shion probed worriedly again, "What are you even doing out here?"

"Nothin'," he snorted. "Leave me alone."

"Squall, were you…" her breath hitched, pupils shrank, and her eyes watered as the thought crossed her mind, "…trying to kill yourself?"

Alarm sprawled through the boy's sore body, contorting his face as he turned back to face her. "What?! No! Why would you even—?"

She embraced him in an anguished hug from behind before he could finish, wrapping him in the quilt covering they now shared. She was sniffling now, burying her tear-drenched eyes at the back of his neck. Squall had winced at the initial soreness of her hold—and it did still hurt—but his greatest concern became whether or not she would begin bawling and attract the sentries.

"Squall, don't do this to us…"

From his seated position, he turned around just enough to grab her forearms and hold her at half-arm's length, removing the quilt as a result. "Shion, I'm not—!" He hushed himself then, mindful of the noise. "I'm not trying to kill myself. That's not why I'm here."

There was no easy way for weeping to end. Once begun, it had to peter out until the mourner's eyes were capable of retaining fluid again. As such, the droplets that became small streams remained as the girl's anxiety turned to confusion. "It's not…? Then…why—?"

"This doesn't concern you." He tried to be firm with her, but no attempted callousness of his could go without at least the slightest bit of wavering in his tone when faced with his sister's weeping face. But that's when it finally hit him: _My sister…_ For the first time since the adoption sixteen months ago, he finally saw the strangers he was forced to live with as his family.

"Of course it concerns me!" she retorted more passionately than angrily as she broke free of his grip. "Squall, this family is all we have! If we lose you—!" She paused then as realization settled in. _He came up to the roof…he's trying to climb the steeple…_ She calmed down and asked almost in a whisper, "Is this about the tree?"

The shock on his face couldn't have been more transparent.

She probed again, "Are you scared of heights?"

He tried to subdue the rising humiliation of exposure with simple anger. "Will you just go back inside?"

She ignored him, "Squall, I don't blame you for what happened."

"I didn't ask for your approval!" The stubborn blush couldn't have been more obvious.

She snapped back, "So stop trying to earn it!" The boy froze, astonished at her riposte. She resumed in a quieter voice, "I get that you're the oldest when Cid's not around, but you don't need to prove yourself for us to respect you. Being older doesn't mean you're not allowed to ever screw up."

He sneered, "Please, how would you know?"

She answered without missing a beat, "Because I'm raising a baby. How do you think I feel every time I make a mistake or can't get her to stop crying?"

He bumbled back, "So what? You have everyone else to help you."

Her voice became firm, "Yes, I _do_. Grandmother taught me how to change Kairi's diapers and how to calm her down. Aerith taught me how to sing to her, Ienzo and Yuffie taught me how to play with her, and Cid taught me how to make her laugh. It's okay to not be perfect at things just because you're older."

He was too stubborn to answer that directly. Instead, he averted his eyes and mumbled, "How the hell'd _you_ climb a tree anyway?"

She snickered and wiped at her eyes. "The better question's how'd I get stuck like that?"

Squall couldn't help but titter a little at her reply.

She was smiling now, satisfied with making him giggle, and only traces of her tears remained. She resumed, "But you know what amazed me even more? Even after Merlin fixed me up, Kairi was so worried about me. She kept kissing me to make the 'owies' go away, she never left my side after we got back, she tried spoon-feeding me her dinner so I would feel better, and she refused to go to sleep unless she watched me sleep first." Her smile became so serene and the glimmer in her eyes so amorous at the thought of her baby sister's love for her. "It just goes to show the big siblings don't always have things under control. Even the smaller children can look out for you sometimes."

That's when Squall realized he'd been on this seventh-story roof for over a minute without his headphones in and forgot all about the fatality of his current altitude. Talking with Shion had distracted him from the crippling fear he'd otherwise have of being so high up. And now that he was aware of this and found himself over a hundred meters in the air…

"It's actually kinda nice up here." His voice was a breathless hush that Shion might not have heard had there been any other noise. But now that she followed his gaze and looked to the horizon, she found herself stunned at the majesty of Radiant Garden's cityscape under the serene moonlight. The first glance was overwhelming in itself as her field of vision sought to absorb every monolithic structure from the modern century and those long gone by that defined this city as an urban marvel, but there was far more than that. Beyond the intense realization of the city's vast size, the megalopolis gradually registered as her home as she located every familiar place she'd discovered since moving here—every statue and landmark she was ever captivated by, the glowing avenues where she would implore Cid to push her wheelchair like a racecar and he would always gleefully oblige, the grand fountain where Ienzo illegally tried teaching Yuffie how to swim, the mile-long central park where she had often watched Kairi play and even saw her climb a tree for the first time, the arboretum and the flower shop Aerith was absolutely enamored with, the music store and arcade that Leon frequented, the auto shop where Cid worked, the burgs where Merlin's house was—and there was an uplifting rightness in seeing from a bird's eyes how all of these things were connected. She could even see the coast from here. All of it was coated in the moon's radiant sheen.

But then, there were also the zeppelins and their searchlights, the militarized sentinels and mecha-tanks making their unending rounds throughout the city, the glowing signs and posters warning citizens to be on the lookout for suspicious activity and to trust their guards and troubled king, and the realization that theirs was a kingdom preparing for what could be its final war brought a somber disillusionment to the previously-captivated girl. All those familiar places she knew and loved could be wiped out by an invasion from a faceless enemy that could strike at any day, was just as likely to have struck for the last sixteen months, and remained indefinitely to destroy their lives at some unknown point in the future.

She answered Squall bitterly, "It'd be nicer without the paranoia."

He replied, "I don't think the Seeker's coming back." She shot him a quizzical look and he elaborated, "The military chased him out of Camp Tenebrae over a year ago and he still hasn't come back. I'm betting that hellhole was his only base and he lost everything when Ansem stormed the place. We're all just waiting for a war that'll never happen, and it's gonna be like this forever."

When the insight of his words settled in, Shion's confusion turned to visible gloom. "I never even thought of that."

He didn't face her, his eyes locked on the militant horizon. "Well, that's the way it is. That's how it's gonna be. We'd better get used to it."

Quiet alarm settled on him when he felt Shion's arm drape just over his still-aching shoulder. He realized in the next second that she was wrapping her quilt around him too so they would both be covered by it. By then, she'd withdrawn her arm and scooted closer to him to maintain their shared warmth. "It's too late for this depressing stuff," she responded. "I'd rather worry about it when we're more awake."

He didn't answer with words, but his silence suggested he agreed.

Barely a minute passed in their peaceful togetherness when Shion reached for something at Squall's side. It was one of his dislodged earphones. "What were you listening to?" She asked with some interest.

Squall was surprised. This was the first time someone had shown genuine curiosity for the things he liked. And as he saw the raven-haired girl insert the lone earbud into her lobe, he allowed a light smile to soften his world-weary face. He put the other headphone into his own ear and reached for the cassette player in his pocket, "It's Kings of Demeter. They've been around since I was little, so I grew up listening to them."

The smile faded when he found the portable tape-player irreparably fractured from the fall.

* * *

Author's note: The song featured in this chapter is a fictional one I "spliced" together with elements from David Bowie's "Starman" and Gary Wright's "Dream Weaver," though with obvious creative license to avoid using copyrighted lyrics since FanFiction frowns upon that (and because those artists wouldn't even exist in Radiant Garden). I dunno, I just really like the idea of Squall listening to '70s soft rock as a kid to mellow himself out whenever he's feeling angsty.

On a final note, Yuffie punching Merlin in the groin was admittedly inspired by a similar scene from Team Wingless' _Final Fantasy VII Crisis Core: The Novel_ , which is a really good fic from the eight chapters I've read so far, and I recommend for any FF7 fan to give this creative novelization a read if they haven't already.


End file.
